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That it's still what he wants.
I'm drowning in hormones.
I'm not thinking straight.
"Indie?" he asks. "It's your body. Your choice. But I'm not going to have unprotected sex with you if you aren't on birth control."
Right.
"That's my choice."
"I'm a little—"
"Distracted by the thought of my cock?"
"Yeah. Kind of. But, uh, an IUD maybe. Since it will just be us. And they work for a long time. And—"
"You tried taking the pill in college, but it made you sick."
"Yeah." Fuck, having sex without a condom. That's… I want it so much. "Will you come in my mouth now?"
"Right now?" He chuckles, still at ease. Not tense from the mention of pregnancy, birth control, children.
Not at all like my conversations with other men.
They're terrified of broaching the topic. Even the sweet ones start whining about condoms after a few months.
I haven't trusted anyone else with this.
But with Ty—
God, I want to do this with Ty.
"Tonight," I say.
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
He shifts, back to toying with me. "I said maybe. Don't make me repeat myself."
Fuck.
My phone buzzes against the seat.
Then there's a knock on the limo door.
Sienna.
Shit.
"Do I need to give you guys a few more minutes?" she says. "I can meet you at the restaurant. But I'm not standing in these shoes. And you're paying for my car, Ty."
He smiles. "Should we tell her?"
"No." I pick up my cell. Slide it into my pocket.
He scoots aside. Taps something to the driver.
Sienna enters. Shoots us a yeah, I know what you were doing look. "God, Indie, you really wear that sex glow."
I turn bright red.
He laughs.
"But seriously, Ty, that was fast," she says. "Have some class next time."
Chapter Nineteen
Indigo
During the twenty-minute drive, Ty and Sienna work through every soccer player I know, and a dozen others.
She shakes her head, gesturing wildly as she discusses why a player is the best or the worst.
He listens carefully, replies with a few well-chosen words.
Both of them refuse to budge from their positions.
They're not walking on eggshells. They're not holding back. They're just… friendly. Like they've known each other for ages.
I marvel over their rapport. And how grown-up Sienna looks in her cream dress. It's a simple fit-and-flare style, but between her gold heels and her chignon—I can't believe she knows another hairstyle—she looks elegant.
Still sweet and innocent, but not like a little girl.
She's starting college in three months.
I have to let her go in three months.
Everything changes in three months.
I can handle that.
I can totally handle that.
"Holy shit." Sienna's fingers dig into my forearm as she stops in her tracks. "Is that your cousin?" She motions to a table in the middle of the restaurant.
It's the only table occupied by a single person.
Or a person who looks like Ty.
But that isn't why Sienna's asking.
It's because this guy is also the hottest guy in the restaurant.
Granted, the competition isn't stiff. There are about a dozen guys here, and most of them are older. But there is a cute hipster bartender. And one of the rich men has a handsome boy toy on his arm.
The other tables are a mix. Two well-dressed couples having dinner. Three men talking business. An older man with a woman young enough to be his granddaughter.
And a handsome black man in a charcoal suit, in the middle of the restaurant.
"Why do you ask?" Ty teases her.
His cousin—Cam, I guess—spots Ty and nods hello.
Sienna squeezes my arm harder. Grabs Ty's. "Are you serious right now?"
"How can you tell if he's hot?" Ty asks. "He's wearing a three-piece suit."
"How can I tell you're hot? Please." She releases his hand to swat the air. "I always know." She looks at Ty. "Besides, hotness is more than shoulders and abs."
"This is the first I'm hearing of this theory," I say.
"There's the face and ass too," she says.
A laugh spills from my lips.
Ty's too. He shoots me a look that's pure ah, our silly old friend, we know her so well. She's always like this.
It warms me everywhere.
"There is a personality component," Sienna says. "There's this guy at my school. All the girls think he's hot. He's very physically attractive, but he's dumber than a doorknob. Not hot."
Sienna doesn't wait for us. She moves inside. Goes straight to the table.
"That is your cousin?" I ask.
He chuckles. "What gave it away?"
"I know you aren't really asking, but he has the same posture as you."
"The same posture?"
"Yeah. You sit like you know you have command of the room."
He presses his palm into my lower back. "Tell Cam you noticed that. He'll love it."
"What is he like? I thought you'd give me a few pointers, but…"
The whole trust thing kind of killed the mood. Are we past it? I don't know.
Trust is easy to destroy. Building it takes time. And we—
We need more time.
His shoulders tense, but he doesn't mention our awkward conversation. "He's a flirt, but for the sport of it."
